1-800-273-8255 | Rap Monster

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dedicated to kim jonghyun of shinee and anyone who's going through severe depression. remember we are surrounded by people who will help you.

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"Hello, you have reached the National Suicide Prevention Line. How may I help you?"

You were an emotional mess after what you witnessed tonight. You called the National Suicide Prevention Line (NSPL) because your best friend, Kim Namjoon, just tried to kill himself.

You were on the way to his apartment, holding two bags of Korean fried chicken and refreshments. You had sent him a text telling him that you were going to visit him, but he never replied. Thinking that he was just busy with his music, you assumed that his silence was going to turn into a "yes."

When you reached his apartment, you noticed that the door was unlocked.

He probably left it open for me.

You entered his apartment and took off your black Converses. You dropped the food onto the table in the kitchen and headed towards Namjoon's room. You knocked on his door and there was no response. You opened the door and saw no trace of him there.

"Namjoon! Yah, Kim Namjoon! Where are you?" You shouted.

You decided to check the bathroom.

Only to see your best friend, Namjoon, lying on the tiled floor, stone cold. In his palm was an empty bottle of pills.

You screamed and tried to wake him up, and panicked when he coughed out white saliva.

"Damn it! Get it together Namjoon!"

You called an ambulance and they hurried him off to the hospital. You were interrogated by doctors if you knew how he tried to kill himself. You told them that he probably consumed the pills dry, remembering the empty bottle of pills.

The doctors thanked you for your input and promised that they would give you hourly updates on his condition. You sighed and collapsed into a nearby chair as you tried to wrap your head around the current situation.

Why would Namjoon commit suicide? Was it out of anger? Sadness? Regret?

You would later know once you interrogated the living hell out of him when he woke up.

*****

7 months later


"I'm so sorry for your loss, Miss Y/L/N..."


Your heart was already torn out of your chest when you heard the word "sorry" from that doctor. Jesus, how did doctors do this so calmly?

"Your parents-"

You stopped him mid-sentence, nodding your head solemnly as tears fell onto the floor.

The doctor looked at you pitifully as he just watched you cry, so you just ran to the nearest bathroom in the hospital and locked yourself in a stall.

Your cries echoed in the bathroom, bouncing off the walls, making your sobs ten times louder. Through your watery eyes, you scrolled through your contacts trying to find your best friend who you could always rely on for these situations.

Well, as of now, you couldn't rely on him that much.

But you decided to call him anyway.

"Please pick up, please pick up..."

The caller is currently not able to answer his/her cell. Please try again or leave a message.

You sighed sadly as you crouched down to the tiled floor, recalling all the bad things that have happened to you in the last seven months.

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